


The Color Yellow

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Series: OFF poetry [1]
Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: F/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sugar-white colors take away the bittersweet taste of an ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Color Yellow

She suffered in a way that was utterly unhappy,

and she hated the color yellow so much.

But she loved to dance through baked evenings

while she hated the fool sun’s touch.

To vintage radios and fingertip beats,

she loved music the way she breathed.

Down the hallway and back to her room,

she’d dance to her thoughts in red tune.

When she put to lyrics, she was brute

and spoke with spiked truth;

when she penned, she was crude

but as vile as she was bemused.

Heat kicked her in drafty conditions

so shed down to skin and let clothes rust.

But if be judged without permission,

she taped black fists on her bust.

For breakfast she’d taste paradise

and dine on rude will before demise.

Sleep would be wary and cold -

eyelids closed as a blindfold.

Over the bridge to hearts unsold,

sloppy like kisses, her hand he’d hold.

But still in clammy fear of the zone of gold.

Sometimes, at midnight, she’d go scarlet

and sing loud enough to break a lung.

Live ears would dim to her violet,

and that must be why she’d gone unsung.

May she love sugar the way she did,

teaspoons were bread and butter to wit.

The water reminded her of knees gray

Wrinkled tragedies solemn and splayed

from plastic to puddle, shot blue jays

if the zones had any to fall to foul play.

He guessed it was better that way.


End file.
